Detached
by Bensler
Summary: Post-ep for Rescue:  What happens when you finally can't take anymore?  How does Olivia cope with losing Calvin?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: Dick owns them all - otherwise I wouldn't be writing about them! " ) Bensler

**Detached**

**By Bensler**

**Chapter 1**

**SVU Squad Room – Friday, December 17 – 5:47 p.m.**

For a change, Elliot noticed right away. Olivia was different. She functioned but that was all she did. Even so, her job did not suffer. When they went on a call, she was still there at his side. But the only words spoken were his or her short answers to his questions – that is, if he dared to ask. Last week when she had to shoot a suspect, who had drawn his gun and charged Elliot, she did what she had to without flinching. When it was over, she handed her gun to Cragen, her face devoid of any emotion, and silently left the scene.

Testifying in court posed no problem – she recounted her side of investigations coherently. She listened to the medical examiner's explanation of DNA analysis and asked appropriate questions and came up with reasonable theories. Following the evidence gathered at a scene to make a case posed no problem for her. Questioning a victim or interrogating a perp was second nature to her and she did both just as well as she ever did. She was professional in every aspect of her job. But something was missing.

Elliot finally realized her compassion and empathy for the victim were gone; the anger and rage at the perp nonexistent.

It was as though she had been stripped of her emotions.

And Elliot knew exactly the second it happened. Two weeks and two days ago. He was there. He was there and he tried to remind her of her place. He whispered in her ear that it was always temporary. He was there when they ripped the young boy, Calvin, frightened and begging her to not let them take him, from her embrace. He witnessed this dark time in her life. He was _there_. And there had been nothing he could do to stop it. To save her.

Looking across his desk at her now, he still didn't know what to do for her but he knew he had to try something. Anything. She was his partner. He was supposed to have her back. He watched as her fingers methodically tapped on her keyboard, her eyes dull, staring at the screen. As he saw the untouched sandwich Fin had put on her desk at lunch, it suddenly struck him that she had lost weight these past couple of weeks. The printer across from them hummed to life and she pushed away from her desk to get the reports the machine was spitting out. When her back was to him, his heart plummeted when he saw how loose her jeans were on her and that she had lost way too much in such a short time. How could he have not noticed this, he asked himself?

Olivia eyed him suspiciously when she turned and saw him staring at her. He bit at his lower lip and started to say something but for some reason he could not form words. Munch saved him.

"Liv, we're heading over to McGinty's for a drink. You wanna come? Your partner's welcome, too." Munch grinned at her and nodded toward Elliot.

"Thanks, but I'm gonna finish up these reports then head home," she told him with a forced smile.

It was then Elliot realized he had not seen her smile since he and Calvin were playing rock, paper, scissors, shoot - right before the guy from Protective Child Services and Vivian had shown up. Remembering her bright smile then and how happy she was, made him sick to his stomach to think of the change in her since losing Calvin.

He had to do _something_ to help her. To find Olivia again.

"Come on, Liv. It's been awhile," Elliot told her, hoping against hope she would reconsider the invitation. "Just one drink."

Shifting her eyes from Munch to Elliot, she shook her head. "I've got to get these reports for Cragen and finish this other paperwork tonight." She sat back down and began assembling the papers, stapling them then put them in a pile.

Munch shrugged and joined Fin at the door and headed out.

Elliot helplessly stared at Olivia. He had to do something. "Liv?"

"What?" she answered without looking up as she continued to staple pages together.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Olivia…" Elliot began but was cut off by his cell phone ringing. The screen lit up and showed 'Kathy'. He groaned.

Olivia saw it, too, and when he silenced it rather than answered it, she said, "You really shouldn't ignore your wife's call." She picked up the stack of papers and went to Cragen's office.

Elliot was exasperated. He knew there was to be no talking with her right now. She made that clear by going to see Cragen. Besides he was supposed to be at dinner with his family celebrating Kathy's mother's birthday. Reluctantly, he signed off his computer, locked his desk, picked up his cell, put on his coat, hat and gloves. As he left he looked over his shoulder at Olivia just as she looked out at him then quickly back at Cragen.

Elliot had called Olivia so many times over the weekend he thought it had to be nearing a hundred, not to mention all the texts. If Kathy were to see his phone right now he would never be able to convince her he and Olivia were _not_ having an affair.

Apparently, Olivia was ignoring him so he went to her apartment. Four times but she wasn't home. It was now ten o'clock Sunday night and he wanted to talk to her before tomorrow - away from prying eyes and burning ears so he went to her place one more time. From the street he could see the apartment was dark. No matter, he was still going up. He knocked on the door so long two neighbors had peeked out, the last one threatened to knock him upside the head if he didn't stop. Elliot glared at him, flashed his shield and kept knocking. When the guy slammed his door shut, Elliot put his ear up to Olivia's door. Nothing. Not a sound. Frustration poured over him but he didn't know what else to do.

On his way back home he made the rounds of all her favorite restaurants and bars; even ran by the precinct to see if she were there. When he entered the squad room he simply glanced at her desk then ran up to the crib, checked the gym and the locker room. No sign of Olivia. He fell heavily to the bench in front of their lockers. Where could she be, he wondered? His eyes drifted to their lockers and he idly read the names posted on them. 'Stabler' and… what?

Elliot raced down the stairs and through the squad room to his desk. "No," he whispered, his heart banging forcefully against his chest. "No!" he screamed as he cleared his desk with one rake of his arm then tore out of the precinct and headed across the city.

When he arrived at his destination, he pounded on the door with such fury he was surprised it did not splinter. His fists ached from the contact with the thick wood. "Come on! Answer the damn door!" he hollered.

Finally, a light came on and the door opened. "Where is she?" he demanded as he pushed his way inside.

"Calm down." The command was given in a quiet, authoritative voice.

"Calm down? Tell me where my partner is and I'll calm down!" Elliot screamed.

"_After_ you calm down," Cragen sternly told him as he motioned for Elliot to take a seat in a nearby chair.

Chest heaving, Elliot was barely able to catch his breath. He felt he may very well black out and was suddenly aware that he was shaking like a leaf - from adrenaline for sure, but also from a gut wrenching fear. He obeyed his captain and dropped into the chair then cradled his head in his hands. Cragen handed him a drink. Elliot didn't bother to ask what it was before he downed it in one gulp.

Cragen took the glass from him and sat on another chair near Elliot. Several long minutes passed before Elliot quieted and seemed to have gotten a better grip on himself.

"Where is she?" Elliot asked nearly inaudibly.

Cragen looked at his detective and saw his eyes were glistening. How he hated this. Hated the pain Elliot was going through; the pain Olivia was going through; he hated the whole situation. Most of all he hated that she put them in this position again. _She_ should be the one to tell Elliot – not _him_.

"Captain? Please?"

Cragen patted Elliot's knee and looked him in the eye. "I don't know where she is, Elliot."

"Then what? Why is her name gone from her locker and her desk cleared?"

His voice was so gruff he didn't even recognize it. He swallowed the thick lump and blinked hard to keep the tears from falling.

"Today was her last day," Cragen told him.

"Last day? She doing another undercover stint? Computer crimes? What?" Elliot demanded as he stood up. "_Tell_ me!"

Cragen stood, too, and watched Elliot carefully as he told him what Olivia should have told him. "She resigned."

Elliot's face scrunched in confusion, disbelief. "From SVU? She…uh…she…where…is she…why…I-I don't…" He struggled to ask his question but could not quite formulate it. His mind had gone blank.

"She resigned from the force, Elliot," Cragen spoke softly hoping to keep Elliot under control but knowing it was useless.

Eyes narrowing, Elliot's hand went to his head. "From NYPD? No. Olivia's not a quitter. She wouldn't have…no,no. There's no way she would have…" he stammered but knew she _would_ leave without telling him because she had done it before. "Why, Don? Why?"

The captain slowly shook his head. "She said it was time for her to go."

Elliot stared at him for a long time then ran from the house and jumped in his car. Captain Donald Cragen stood on his porch and watched the taillights of Elliot's car disappear as its squealing tires pierced the night.

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeo ~ ~ ~


	2. Chapter 2

**Detached**

**By Bensler**

**Chapter 2**

**Benson Residence – Sunday, December 19 – 11:56 p.m.**

If Olivia was home, there would be hell to pay, but that wasn't going to deter Elliot. If she didn't answer the door, he would use the key she had given him for emergencies. In the nearly twelve years they had been partners, he'd never had reason to use it. And he would never have violated her privacy without a clear need. Tonight, all that changed.

He knocked but not as loudly or as persistently as earlier. It was late and the last thing he needed was a confrontation with one of her neighbors. He called her cell phone again just to see if maybe she would answer. She didn't. He separated her key from the rest and put it in the lock. Taking a deep breath, he slowly turned it until he heard it click then did the same with the two deadbolts. Cautiously pushing the door open, he was a bit puzzled that the chain was not in place.

The minimal light in the apartment came from the street lamps and he began to wonder if she really just was not home. He felt for the light switch and flipped it on. It illuminated enough of the apartment for him to be shocked.

Ignoring the alarm bells sounding in his head, he moved slowly, calling out in loud whisper, "Liv? Are you here? It's me…El. I-I've been worried about you."

He turned on the lamp by the couch. She was not in the living room. He could not believe what he saw. The room was strewn with newspapers and magazines – on the couch, the coffee table, the floor. A stack of CDs and DVDs, some of the cases open and empty with the contents carelessly dropped on the shelves and floor. Something was wrong with Olivia. She was extremely OCD about her CDs and DVDs. This wasn't like her. _None_ of this chaos was like her.

Piles of laundry were heaped on one end of the couch and in the recliner. He saw only one plate amidst the debris, setting on an end table. It was holding the remains of something now unrecognizable. There were at least half a dozen mugs with the teabags still in them along with four wine glasses and as many empty wine bottles littering the end tables and the floor by the couch. Wine had dripped from one of the bottles onto her cream colored carpet. The stain was dry when he felt it.

Making his way back toward the kitchen he noticed pairs of her discarded boots were everywhere along with several jackets and coats thrown over a chair or the dining table and one apparently fallen to the floor. Mail covered the countertops and he figured she hadn't read any of it for over two weeks. The kitchen sink was filled with a pan of burnt spaghetti and sauce soaking in water, more mugs and wine glasses. The trashcan was overflowing with plastic solo cups, more wine bottles, beer bottles and cans, several lay on the floor surrounding the bin. More of the same along with two empty vodka bottles sat on the counter above the trashcan.

Apparently all she had done this past two weeks was drink tea, wine, beer and vodka. He should have done something long before now, he thought. He had known she was in trouble when she lost Calvin. He knew it and chose to let it slide just like he had so many times in the past. Only this time…this time it felt different. It _was_ different. And he may very well be too late. His heart raced with the thought of what he might find in the bedroom. He looked toward her bedroom door. It was pushed to but not closed.

As he opened it, he called out again fear now grating in his voice, "Liv? Are you in here? Olivia? It's Elliot."

From the light in the hall he could see the room was in the same disorder as the rest of the apartment. Clothes haphazardly dropped along two paths, one to the bathroom, and another to her bed which was a jumble of material. The comforter half on the floor, the fitted sheet pulled from one corner, the flat one piled up at the foot of the bed along with an extra blanket. More empty beer bottles on the nightstand. Still no sign Olivia.

Stomach churning, breathing difficult, heart beating so hard he could hear it in his ears he looked toward the closed bathroom door. What was behind the door? Would he find her in there? In the dark? Passed out in a drunken stupor or worse? Each step closer made the knot in his stomach tighten with nausea quickly nearing the point of having to vomit. Just as his hand grasped the knob, a low, raspy voice shattered the dark silence.

"What do you want, Elliot?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice. It was behind him somewhere. In the far corner? Her voice was flat, detached, resigned. It didn't sound at all like Olivia yet he knew it was.

He swallowed hard, took several deep breaths then turned toward the sound. "Liv?" His voice cracked.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light in the room, he saw her silhouette against the window. She was sitting in a chair in the corner beside it. She did not answer him.

"Liv? Say something."

Still no response.

"Liv? I'm…I'm gonna turn on the light in the bathroom so I can see better. That okay?"

She remained mute so he took it for her permission to do so. He flipped the switch then turned back into the room. He could see a lot better now but was completely unprepared for how she looked. She still had on the clothes she had worn to work on Friday – three days ago. He knew she hadn't showered since then either. Her hair was disheveled, her makeup nearly worn completely off except for the black streaks made by tears long ago dried upon her cheeks. He tried to think of a time when he ever saw her cry. _Really_ cry and he couldn't think of one. How was it that in nearly a dozen years he had never really seen her cry? It broke his heart to see her like this now.

In her hand was an almost empty bottle of vodka. As he approached her she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long swig. When she did not grimace from its taste or burn, he was amazed. Obviously, she had been doing this for a long while. He was worried sick about her.

"Olivia," he said gently as he put his hand over hers and tried to take the vodka from her. "You've had enough, baby."

She held onto the bottle tightly but didn't try to pull away. "Who do you think you are to come in here uninvited and try to tell me what to do?"

She spoke so quietly, so calmly it unnerved Elliot. This was not the Olivia Benson he knew. His Liv would be yelling and snatching the bottle from him. Then she would promptly kick him out of her apartment.

"Liv, talk to me," he pleaded as he released her hand letting her have the bottle.

She looked up at him. Dark circles beneath her eyes made her appear to have been in a fight. Her normally twinkling, brown eyes were sunken and hollow, void – like there was no one in there anymore. This frightened him to the core of his being.

Taking another long swig from the bottle, she shifted her gaze back out the window. "There's nothing left to say, Elliot."

"Yes, there is. Tell me what is going on? Why'd you leave…you can't leave me again, Olivia. I-I can't take it."

"Sure you can. You've got your family back, your wife." She snorted. "Even another kid. It's not like when you told me all you had was me and the job. I'm _not_ all you have, Elliot."

His mind raced to keep up with her words and what she was thinking. "You're my family, too, Liv."

"Right," she said sarcastically. _He_ was all _she_ had and she didn't even have him anymore – if she _ever_ did.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Elliot, you go home to Kathy every night. You've got five kids. You don't have need or have time for me…"

"Is that what this is? I'll make more time. I can do that, just don't leave, Olivia. I _do_ need you. Please don't leave," he begged.

"No, that's not it…it's just…I don't know…"

"Liv, please, you need to talk it about it. I know it's about Calvin. And I understand…"

"You understand?" Olivia laughed quietly and shook her head. "No, El, you don't understand. You don't understand at all. No one does."

"Okay, maybe I don't. _Make_ me understand. Tell me what's going on in your head." With each thing she said, his fear increased.

"If you knew what was going on in my head, you'd be drinking _with_ me." She laughed again but stopped short when she saw the look on Elliot's face. He was anything but amused. She saw his fear and wondered why he would be afraid. Of her.

He sat quietly with a troubled look in his eyes and waited for her to continue.

She set the bottle on the window sill and ran her hands through the tangles in her hair. "I don't know if I can explain what's in my head."

"Try. Please?" Elliot was now crouching beside her, willing himself not to reach out and touch her, to comfort her.

"It's everything. My rapist father, my alcoholic mother. No family. Nowhere I belong. No relationship with a man…"

"Don't I count?" Elliot asked, a bit hurt at her words.

Olivia searched his eyes for several minutes then looked back out the window. "More than you know," she whispered and sighed heavily.

"What do you mean?" He wasn't letting her get away without explaining everything.

She thought for a long time before deciding she may as well go for broke and totally unload on him. She had already resigned from the NYPD. There was no way she was going back. They were no longer partners. It no longer mattered how she felt or what he knew. And the least she owed him was the truth. After all, she was ending a nearly twelve year relationship and he deserved to hear it from her. All of it. The truth. It was the very least she could give him.

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeoe ~ ~ ~

**NOTE: Review are very much appreciated! " ) Benser**


	3. Chapter 3

**Detached**

**By Bensler**

**Chapter 3**

**Benson Residence – Monday, December 20 – 12:13 a.m.**

Olivia looked down at Elliot still crouched beside her chair. Full of concern and confusion, his blue eyes begged for answers. She wished she could just make herself reach out and pull him to her. Wished she could just feel his arms around her and hear the steady rhythm of his heart as she rested her head against his chest. Maybe then she could start feeling something again. She wished he would just understand and know what it was she needed so desperately to tell him. She thought back to when she heard him enter her apartment earlier.

_The knocking at the door was firm yet not what she would have expected from him, but still, she knew it was Elliot. He must be trying to be quieter than the first time, she thought. Old man Marino was menacing enough when he wasn't perturbed though she doubted he would have been able to take down Elliot. Oh, yes. She was home when he came by the first time two hours ago. She simply could not make herself move to answer the door. She didn't want to talk to him. Or anyone. She just wanted to be left alone. _

_The second time, this time, he used the key she had given him years ago when they were first partnered. Having no family, she needed someone to be able to have access to her home if anything ever happened to her and she needed help. The thing was – now that something had happened she was far past help. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing. Not the job. Not Elliot. Not her. Not even life itself. Numbness – that was all she felt._

_Even the sound of his voice did nothing to her. It didn't make her heart skip a beat anymore. She was not thrilled at the thought of seeing him; talking to him. She was not angry he came looking for her or upset that he had violated her privacy by letting himself in without permission. She was not relieved to know he cared enough to come to her, nor happy to realize the fact that he did meant she did mean something to him after all. There was nothing. No emotion good or bad. There was just – emptiness. Emotionally she felt dead._

"Liv?" Elliot shifted his weight from one bent leg to the other.

His voice pulled her from her thoughts and she looked down at him again.

Speaking softly, he asked, "You okay?"

When she didn't answer, Elliot stood and stretched, his knees popping. "Well, I'm not okay. I can't stay squatted like this any longer." He pulled a small footstool near the chair and sat on it still close to Olivia.

She ran her hands over something draped across her lap. Elliot noticed it earlier but thought it was a small blanket. Now he saw it was a jacket. But not one he recognized as belonging to Olivia. Her fingers trailed over it as if caressing something precious.

Watching as he settled again, she picked up the jacket in her lap and brought it to her face. Her eyes closed as she inhaled its scent. "Smells like him."

When Elliot's eyes narrowed in question, she added, "Calvin." Slowly she began shaking her head. "I'm not okay either." She sighed heavily and laid the jacket back in her lap her hands once again feeling the smoothness of the material.

Elliot's lips twisted as he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, seeking the right thing to say. All he could do was encourage her. "Then talk to me, Olivia. Tell me what's in your head. Tell me what you meant by 'more than you know'."

She could do this now. She could. She could tell him exactly how she had felt. _Had_ felt. Because it was not an issue anymore. It no longer mattered. Just like Dean Porter had told her – _our feelings don't matter_. He was right, she realized. Her feelings had never mattered. Never been important. Never been worthy of anyone's consideration. What she felt for Elliot did not matter either because now she felt nothing.

Staring out the window, she began reciting part of an old poem her mother used to quote. "The human heart has hidden treasures, in secret kept, in silence sealed; the thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures, whose charms were broken if revealed. There are moments in life…"

Olivia momentarily paused when Elliot's deep but gentle voice blended with hers, as he joined her in the recitation, "when the heart is so full of emotion that if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together."

Their gaze locked for a long moment before Elliot saw one corner of her lips lift in a very slight smile.

"Henry Wadsworth Longfellow." Elliot's eyes never left hers.

"Never took you for a poetry man." Her eyes searched his face noticing it now held a slight smile rather than total confusion.

"Hey, I went to college. Took American lit." He shrugged. "I actually like poetry, but don't tell the guys, okay?"

She nodded, her smile already fading then turned her eyes to outside the window again and Elliot knew whatever bit of connection they had just shared was gone.

Silence took over again so he waited patiently, unwilling to push in her fragile state of mind. He couldn't help but stare at her profile against the soft light of the street lamps. This woman was beautiful, he thought, as his chest felt like it would burst with the feelings he had pent up inside of him for his partner.

He thought about that poem and how it related to Olivia and to him. Both had experienced broken hearts, lost loves, careless words, shattered dreams. But Olivia had born so much more pain than he could ever imagine surviving. But she did. At least up until now. Now he truly had no idea what he was dealing with nor what the outcome would be.

Olivia reached out and pulled a picture from the small table beside her chair. When she did Elliot noticed another picture, this one of him and Olivia taken at a get together at Cragen's a couple of years ago on the Fourth of July. It was in a simple but elegant silver frame. They looked so happy…so carefree. For some odd reason it felt good to know she kept a picture of them in her home. He would have to ask her for a copy of it. His eyes were then drawn to the smaller picture she now held in her hands. Calvin. His heart clenched for her and the anguish he knew must be in her heart.

Running her fingers lightly over and over this picture, she stared at the smiling young boy in the photograph. Elliot remained quiet choosing to let her call the shots about conversation. He was worried because she had yet to show any kind of emotion. He waited for tears or anger or something.

At last she severed the silence. "My heart has been broken so many times, El, I guess I've started seeing the cracks in everything and everyone around me."

"Cracks?" He was not able to comprehend what she was getting at and looked at her in complete bewilderment. "What do you mean?"

"Look around you, Elliot. Do you know anyone that has a normal life? I mean, what is normal? Why aren't more people happy? Why don't things go like you want? I don't know. Everyone is dysfunctional to some degree, right? All my life I've basically been alone. Never felt worthy of having anyone love me…no father to give that unconditional love every girl needs from her dad…and even my mother didn't love me…"

"Olivia," Elliot chastised. "Serena loved you in her own way."

"If you want to hear this, then shut up and let me talk without your commentary." Her voice was still soft, almost monotone. No hint of emotion.

Elliot held up his hands in surrender and she continued. "I kept to myself, built walls around my heart…partly because I didn't think I deserved to be loved and partly because I didn't want to be hurt anymore. If you don't love then you can't be hurt, right? I mean Sarah was right about love and pain…sometimes it's hard to tell the difference." She paused.

Elliot wanted so bad to tell her it didn't have to be that way, but he couldn't because that had pretty much been his experience, too. But he _did_ want to tell her she wasn't alone. As long as he was alive, she would never be alone. And someone would always love her. _He_ would always love her.

Letting go of a deep breath through pursed lips, Olivia continued. "Years ago I met a man who pulled those walls down stone by stone so slowly I never realized he had done so. And by the time I did, it was too late – I had already fallen in love with him."

She had fallen in love with someone and never told him? The emotions running through him were all over the place. "Why was it too late?" Elliot asked forgetting his Olivia-imposed silence.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly.

Her eyes shifted back to the window and beyond. "It was too late to stop him from crashing through all my barriers and too late because he was married," she whispered.

The jerk she was in love with was married? "Things happen…maybe he's free now," Elliot offered.

This time she ignored his breech of silence. "He almost got divorced but worked it out…" She paused. "He's still married." Pointedly, she looked at him, her gaze piercing his heart.

Elliot felt like he had been punched in the gut. The words hit him hard. Could she really mean what he thought she meant? Of course, she did. He knew she did because he had felt the same way. But Eli kept him from acting on it. Or was he thinking along these lines because he had wanted to be with her, too? No. It wasn't him. There had to be someone else in her life he didn't know about.

"I finally worked through all those feelings…for the most part anyway. I always…always thought at some point I would meet someone else, fall in love, marry, have kids." Sarcasm filled her soft laughter. "What a fool I was."

She shook her head and continued.

"It never worked out with anyone – not Andy, not Kurt, not Dean – mostly because they weren't the man I loved. Having my own family…it's just not in the cards, Elliot. When I was turned down to adopt, something inside of me died, but I didn't' know what. Then Calvin came along and I realized what it was that had died because I found it again. Hope. I found hope again. I knew it was temporary, El…I…I really did. But deep down I began to think I would get to keep him because Vivian was unfit and I doubted she'd ever get clean much less stay that way."

"Liv, I'm sorry…"

"Shhhh…" She put a finger to his lips and looked directly at him again. "This is my story and you only get to hear it once." She took a deep breath and dropped her gaze to the floor. "Calvin was the last straw, Elliot. I can't take anymore. I can't do this anymore."

"Do what? The job? What?"

"Any of it. All of it. I can't watch one more rape victim live the rest of her life afraid; I can't see one more kid abused or killed by a parent who is suppose to love and protect them; I can't look on as one more rapist or child abuser or murderer goes free on a technicality. I can't live my life wanting someone I can't have. But most of all, I can't do this anymore – the job, our partnership, life - without someone to go home to; someone to love and love me. I'm done, Elliot."

"Olivia, I…" he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"No, El. I've lost it all – the desire to help others when I have nothing; first, you and now Calvin. I'm done trying to do what's right, what's good only to have everything good in _my_ life ripped away from me…every single time. _Every_ _single time_. I'm done hoping. Hope, happiness, love…it's all a joke. It only exists because otherwise no one would make it in this thing called life. But I know now. I know none of it is real. And it's clear to me I really don't deserve anything good in life…and I simply can't take the pain anymore. I can't do this anymore."

What did she say? Did she say she had lost _him_? Oh, God. _He_ was the man she was talking about who tore down the walls around her heart? No, he couldn't be, could he? He must have misunderstood. He had to make her clarify it. "What do you mean first _me_ and now Calvin?"

Sighing heavily, she looked at him in thorough disbelief. "Are you really that dense, Elliot?" She shook her head. "I don't think so. You're the one who said things change. Do you _really_ need me to spell it out?"

Yes. Yes, he needed - and wanted - her to spell it out so there would be no room for his misunderstanding or his own hopes to be dashed. "Yeah…yeah, I do."

She narrowed her eyes and a slight smile edged one side of her mouth up. Her brown eyes penetrating to his very soul, she took a deep breath then reached out and framed his face with her hands.

"I love you, Elliot. I've been in love with you so long I don't even remember what my life was before you. But you are out of reach and I've come to terms with that…at least I've tried to, but Calvin was the breaking point. I'm not doing this again. I can't. I've become detached from my emotions and because of that I can't be the cop I need to be anymore either. It's over. It's _all_ over."

Elliot was dumbfounded at her confession and stared mutely as she stood up and walked out of the bedroom. She loved _him_? She was _in_ love with _him_? For how long? When did she realize this? Finally, it registered in his swirling mind that she had left the room and he quickly stood and followed her.

"Liv?" He was torn between being ecstatic that she loved him and sick at heart because he was in no position to do anything about it.

She was at the door and held it open. "I need you to leave, Elliot."

No tears, no change in her voice, no emotion on her face. Nothing. He began to fear she would do something to hurt herself. He didn't know what to do or say but he had to touch her. He had to feel her warmth against his skin. His right hand cupped her left cheek and for just a moment he felt her leaned into it but then she pulled away and motioned for him to leave.

He was in such a state of shock he did exactly as she asked. And took a step toward the hallway as she began to close the door.

"Liv…please," he desperately pleaded.

She shook her head and looked down. The last thing he heard her say before the door closed was, "El…this time…I'm not coming back."

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeoe ~ ~ ~


	4. Chapter 4

**Detached**

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 4**

Elliot stared at the door that now separated him from Olivia. This was not over, he thought. For better or worse, she was his partner. He was supposed to have her back and someway, somehow he _would_ have her back. In more than one way.

Though he was not sure it was the best thing to do, he decided to give her some space. And, truthfully, he needed the time to process everything she had said to him about her feelings. His emotions were running high and he needed to clear his own head to be any good for her. He should go home. Perhaps there he would be able to work things out and figure out his next step in helping Olivia.

Tangled in the bed linens, Olivia fought them like she was fighting for her life. It had taken hours to fall asleep after Elliot left. And now the nightmares had stolen the temporary escape from her. She had tossed and turned and moaned and called out against the phantom forces that sought to destroy her. Only they weren't phantom. They were very real.

Even though they were not present in her bedroom, they were embedded in her memory, etched into her being. Memories of an alcoholic mother; a rapist father; a partner she cared about more than was allowed. And now a child whom she had grown to love dearly in the short time she cared for him. There was only so much an individual could bear before they would buckle, lose their mind, give up on life.

_I'm doing it because it is the best thing for him. Because I'm his mom. _Viv's harshness told Olivia she was doing it for reasons other than Calvin's best interest. If she really wanted what was best, she would leave him with Olivia – they were doing fine. She was content to have someone to love and love her back and Calvin was thriving under her attention and guidance.

_It was always temporary._ Elliot whispered in her ear as his arms went around her gently, but firmly, holding her back while also trying to provide what little comfort he could. What he could not know was no one could comfort her or make things better when it her very life was being turned upside down and ripped right out from under her. Again.

_No! I don't want to go with you!_ Calvin broke away from his mother and the CPS man and ran back to Olivia.

_Don't let them take me! _His outstretched arms wrapped around her like a vice grip as he begged and pleaded with her.

Amid shouts from Vivian to let him go and pleading screams from Calvin for her not to let them take him, she told him _it's okay_. As he was pulled from her arms she told him _it's okay_. But it wasn't. Nothing was okay.

Olivia's name tore from his lips over and over and over and with each call it took a piece of her heart. _Olivia! Olivia! Olivia!_ One hand pushed at the arms dragging him from her, the other outstretched toward her – begging, pleading, beseeching her to help him. Reaching out for her touch, for her to rescue him.

And she could do nothing.

Now she sat in the middle of her queen size bed, huddled amid the jumbled covers and sheets an aching, burning pain in her chest building until she thought she might actually explode. Then suddenly there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. No feeling. Just emptiness, numbness, stretching out before her. There was nothing left for her to live for; to die for; to hope for. If she thought it would do any good, she would have cried, but she had learned the hard way that crying does nothing to change the situation. Praying was futile because it seemed to her God either didn't hear or didn't care, and hope had been a delusion which had no true existence.

Squinting at the bright sunshine streaming through a small gap of the curtains, she stared at the walls and time stood still. Eventually, her eyes landed on the bottle of vodka sitting on the table by the window. Right where she had left it when Elliot was there last night. She rolled off the bed and grabbed the bottle. Tilting it to her lips she downed the rest of the bitter liquid and set the empty bottle back on the table. Wiping her mouth with the back of her right hand, she stood for a moment, her left hand raking through her matted hair. She saw her reflection in the full-length mirror and was shocked. Her appearance was that of a homeless person – or possibly someone with dire mental defects. Dirty, wrinkled clothing; matted oily hair; remnants of mascara and eyeliner smeared across her face; eyes hollow and sunken; face blotchy from the alcohol and crying. This was not her. This was _not_ Olivia Benson.

Averting her eyes from the stranger in the mirror, her gaze fell to the bottom drawer of her dresser. She walked over, dropped to her knees and opened it. There were two more bottles of vodka. She removed them and took them to the kitchen with her. Opening the cabinet above the refrigerator, she pulled down another bottle of vodka, one of bourbon and two more bottles of wine. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out the remaining five beers from the case and set them beside her arsenal of liquor.

As she stared at the beverages lining her kitchen counter, she felt sick to her stomach. And not because she had drank too much. Rather, because she kept wondering why on earth she bought them. And all the others. The last thing she needed was to become her mother. She knew better than to try to solve problems with alcohol. And she knew that what she was really doing was trying to forget her problems. Alcohol was not the answer.

Then it hit her. She had become a victim. Yes, she had a lot of bad things happen to her but she had always fought against them, determined to rise above her circumstances and become the victor. Now, she had allowed life to roll over her; decimate her; make her a victim of all it threw at her.

It hit her hard. She needed help. The experience of Sealview taught her that no matter how strong you were or thought you were, sometimes you had to have help to wade through your problems and issues. This was one of those times. She had to have help or she would not survive this latest round of events.

Searching for her cell phone, she found it lying on the bedside table, turned off. Waiting for it to come on, she knew only one person to call and knew he would be surprised to hear from her.

It rang once, twice, three times before he answered.

"I need help." She was barely able to croak out the words.

"Olivia?" the voice asked incredulously.

"I _need_ your help. Please." She hated that her voice cracked when she spoke.

And now her hands shook and her heart pounded as she waited for his answer.

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeo ~ ~ ~


	5. Chapter 5

**Detached**

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 5**

Benson Residence – Tuesday, December 21 – 7:30 a.m.

The despair was etched into her voice and he was sure he had never heard her sound so hopeless. "Do you want me to come to your place?" he asked.

Olivia thought about this for a moment, but then decided she would go to him. "No. Can we meet somewhere? Private?"

He knew she meant anywhere but the SVU squad room. "I have a court hearing at 9:00 but I could meet you after that downtown."

"That's good."

"I'll call you."

**26 Federal Plaza, 23rd Floor** – Tuesday, December 21 – 11:50 a.m.

It took all the energy Olivia could muster simply to get showered and dressed and make her way across the city. Now as she waited for her knock to be answered her despondency turned to anxiety. Why was she here? What good would it do to talk about things she couldn't change? Had quitting the force been the right thing or had she made a hasty decision she would regret? She was nearing a full blown panic attack when the door opened.

"Olivia. I'm glad you came."

She nodded and stepped inside.

"Please make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water?"

"Uh…water, please." Her throat was dry and sharing her feelings was not a strong suit for her. "Thank you," she said as he loosened the lid and handed her a bottle of water.

Ever the patient man, he waited for her to speak. She did not know how to start so she looked at him off and on while fidgeting with the cap on the water bottle.

Finally, he asked in his soft spoken voice, "Olivia, why are you here?"

She looked up into the warm, brown eyes of Dr. George Huang and told him, "I…I can't do this anymore."

"What?"

Frowning as her teeth scraped across her bottom lip, she asked, "Didn't Cragen tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Hesitantly, she looked around the small but well decorated office. "I quit."

To Olivia's surprise, Huang seemed shocked at her disclosure.

"SVU?"

A sarcastic snort preceded her reply. "SVU, NYPD, everything."

The doctor's eyes narrowed as he pondered her answer. He looked her over and was concerned over her appearance. She had lost some weight and she had not bothered with make-up, not even to hide the dark circles under her eyes. But more than the physical, there was something about her eyes. They were different but he could not put his finger on why or how.

"Everything?" he repeated.

Averting her gaze from his, she nodded slowly.

"What does Elliot think?"

Suddenly her head snapped up and there was a flash of anger in her eyes. "What does Elliot have to do with this?"

"Well, he is your partner. And I thought you were friends as well." George knew very well how close the two were. He had counseled Elliot during the Gitano fiasco and had seen firsthand the interaction between the two detectives.

"Not anymore," she informed him.

"Not even your friend?"

Friend, she wondered? She wasn't sure what they were now. In fact, she had not been sure what they were for the past six or seven years. And after all the things she had said to him, she would not be surprised if he cut her completely out of his life. Snippets of past conversations between them darted through her mind.

'I should have told you.' '_I'm just glad you have someone.' _

'What about me?'_ 'Look, you and this job are about the only things that I've got anymore. I don't want to wreck that. I couldn't take it.' _

'I broke a personal rule.'_ 'I'm your partner for better or worse.' _

'_Why didn't tell me? '_I'm sorry. It's just too…too complicated.'

'_Yeah, well, you know, things change.' _ 'Well, like you said you're the longest relationship I've ever had with a man.'

'_You're okay.' _Words failed her. And all she _could_ do was savor the beating of his heart against hers and his warmth flooding her body.

'_I'd give you a kidney.' _Not if I gave you mine first.'

'_Liv! Liv! Are you hit? _No! The blood is his!

'I'm so glad you're here.'_ I should have come sooner.'_

No. She had no idea what Elliot was to her, and even less of an idea of what she was to him. She only knew she loved him and wanted to be with him and that it would never happen. Looking up a Huang, she felt overwhelmed by all the emotions closing in on her and crashing against through her mind and piercing her heart.

Abruptly standing, she whispered, "I shouldn't have come here."

She was nearly out the door when George caught up to her and placed himself between her and the way out.

"Olivia. Something made you come here. Don't run away," he pleaded as he placed a hand on her left shoulder. "Let me help you. Please."

At his words and the touch of his hand, Olivia felt the tension slip from her body.

And she crumpled.

Two hours later, Olivia was leaving the building when she heard her name being called.

"Olivia!"

Rolling her eyes, she turned toward the familiar voice. "Dean." 

"You're the last person I expected to see here. Business?"

"Yeah."

"Gonna expound on that?"

"No." She punched the elevator button for the lobby and ignored Dean Porter.

"You had lunch?" Dean changed tactics.

"Look, after what happened with the Rojas/Banes case, I really don't have anything to say to you, okay?" She turned her attention back to the elevator and wished it would hurry.

"Olivia, that was out of my hands. It was an issue of National Security."

"And you said our feelings didn't matter." She stared at him until he shifted uncomfortably. "And now there _are_ no feelings to matter."

"Olivia, please."

The elevator opened and she stepped on. As the doors closed she told him, "Have a nice life."

Benson Residence – Tuesday, December 21 – 8:45 p.m.

Olivia had talked to Dr. George Huang for nearly two hours and agreed to see him three times a week for a while until she felt stronger mentally. She had spent the day processing the things she and Huang had talked about, trying to come to terms with all the issues in her life. She had several decisions to make and the sooner she made them the quicker she'd be able to start picking up the pieces of her life.

Huang had explained to her how emotional detachment was the often the mind's response to psychological trauma. It was also an element in many types of anxiety and stress disorders. Though physically present, the affected person would be elsewhere in the mind, therefore, not really entirely present. This made them come across as preoccupied or distracted. Which she had been after this latest trauma with Calvin.

In other cases, the person might function intellectually when in reality an emotional response would have been more appropriate. For instance, when she and Elliot came across a rape and murder, instead of being affected by it like she may have in the past, she would now operate only as a police officer, professional and without emotional involvement.

She had already figured out a lot of this and had told Elliot as much. And she knew without the capacity to feel empathy for the victims, she could not be the cop she should be; wanted to be.

George had shown her something else, too. He explained how emotional detachment could also be a deliberate and positive attitude to evade interacting with the emotions of others. He told her it was seen in people dealing with family members or friends who were in some way far too emotionally demanding. So much so as to be a detriment to others' emotional well being.

She remembered her response to his explanation.

'_You mean like with an alcoholic mother?'_

'_Yes. Exactly. You distance yourself from that person so they don't consume you.'_

'_That's a form of emotional detachment?'_

'_Yes. And an emotional survival technique.'_

'_What happens if you waited too late to disengage?'_

'_Then that person also becomes an emotional cripple.'_

Emotional cripple. Cripple – flawed, deficient, damaged. _She_ was an emotional cripple. She was damaged. She had know this all along but hearing the words inflicted such pain her eyes had welled with tears and she cried. Huang had quickly tried to backpedal on his words. But Olivia knew that was exactly what she was and she had to learn how to fix it or learn how to accept it and live with it. It didn't help matters that every time she tried to trust someone, she got kicked in the teeth. Ganzer, Ekerson, Porter, and yes, even her partner. Though he was married he had given her mixed signals for years. She should have called him on it and put a stop to it long ago.

The heavy knocking at her door startled her. Looking at the clock over the dining table she sighed. She did not want to deal with Elliot Stabler right now. Or ever. Just before she got to the door, she heard the visitor call out.

"Olivia! Can we please talk?"

Surprise caused her left eyebrow to lift and her eyes to widen. Dean Porter. She definitely did not want to deal with him. She'd take Elliot over Dean any day. Quietly, she inched her way back to the couch and waited several minutes for the knocking to stop.

She had just opened a notebook and started writing – George had suggested she keep a journal of her feelings – when she heard knocking once again. This time she was exasperated.

"Go away! I told you I had nothing else to say to you, Dean!" she hollered out as she opened the door to face Dean.

Only problem was, it was Elliot standing there staring at her with a note in his hand.

"Elliot?"

"Uh…you expecting…Dean?"

"Uh...yeah… I mean, no…I wasn't expecting him…I…" she sighed. "What are you doing here?"

Elliot's expression was anything but friendly. In fact, he seemed a bit peeved. "This was taped to your door." He held out his hand to which a piece of paper folded in half was now hanging from his finger.

Olivia took the note, read it and looked up at Elliot. "Did you read this?" It was a note from Dean and she wondered why he hadn't slipped it under her door instead.

Elliot only looked at her. No words were necessary. The silence and the look on his face was all the answer she needed.

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeoe ~ ~ ~


	6. Chapter 6

**Detached**

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 6**

Benson Residence – Tuesday, December 21 – 8:45 p.m.

Olivia stared at him. "I can't believe you read this."

"It's not like I steamed an envelope open or something," Elliot said defensively. He was mad and confused. Mad that Porter had been to see her and confused because he thought Porter's last appearance had sealed his fate with Olivia. But apparently there was still something going on.

'_Seeing you again made me realize how much I still care. Please, just talk to me. Dean.'_

Elliot wondered when they had seen each other again and if that had played a part in Olivia's meltdown. He would never admit it out loud, but he knew the feeling running through him was pure jealousy. And he had no right. None.

She jammed the note in her jeans pocket, shook her head and gave him a look of disgust.

"What are you doing here anyway?" she demanded.

"Just wanted to see how you were – you haven't answered my calls or texts in two days."

"You ever think that was because I didn't want to talk to you?" she asked sarcastically.

She was aggravated with him for dropping by without calling first not to mention irritated he read the note from Dean. But she would be less than truthful if she didn't admit she was also pleased with his concern so she took a deep breath before saying more.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I just…I don't want to be around anyone right now. I've got too many things to figure out."

"That right? You didn't seem to mind being around Porter," Elliot scoffed, thinking about the content of that note. "So, he can help you but I can't?

"Dean is none of your business." Her eyes turned black with her ire.

"A bit defensive, aren't we?"

"_We _don't like people poking around in _our_ private life. _We_ tend to get a little crazy," she warned.

The two traded icy glares until Elliot broke the eye contact. He hadn't come here to fight with her and besides she was right. Her relationship with Dean Porter was none of his business.

"You're right. Porter's none of my business. But you're my partner, so how you are doing _is _my business."

"I'm not your partner anymore, Elliot. I quit. Remember?"

Her words cut him like a finely sharpened sword and he sucked in a loud gasp of air at the pain. In reaction he grabbed her and jerked her close to him, his eyes penetrating to her soul as he grated out, "You'll _always_ be my partner, Olivia. _Always_!"

Fear flashing in her eyes made him release her. "I'm sorry. Just…just don't ever say that again," he whispered.

She simply stared at him. He took a seat on the chair across from the couch, leaned over with his elbows on his knees and let his head drop into his hands. "I want to…be here for you, Liv. And I don't…I don't know how. I don't know what to do. Please, let me be here."

Something in her melted at his pleading words. She went to him and softly squeezed his shoulder in an awkward try at comfort. When he reached up and covered her hand with his, she hastily pulled away and backed up a couple of steps.

Elliot momentarily caught her gaze, but when she looked away he let his head fall back into his hands.

"I…" she started but stopped. Could she really admit this to him? That she had finally cracked; finally fell over the edge and into insanity? "I saw…Huang today."

Slowly, Elliot lifted his head and looked up at her. Was she actually going to share this with him? Actually, let him in so he could help her? He hoped she meant she had seen the doc as a patient, but wasn't sure so he asked, "Where?"

"At his downtown office. Thought it would seem less personal," she explained.

"So, you mean you saw him to talk? About…things?"

Biting on her lower lip, she nodded.

"How'd it go?"

"It was a visit with a shrink. What can I say?" She shrugged and sat down grabbing the throw pillow from the corner of the couch.

Elliot watched her try to brush off the visit as some everyday routine, but he knew how hard it was for her to talk about any of this. They both had a hard time finding expression for their feelings. And the way she had been these last few weeks…it was different from how cases in the past had affected her. Much different.

"Well, you could tell me a little about it," he encouraged. "That is, if you want."

"And why would I want to do that?" she asked sarcastically, her defenses once again in place. "Because you're so chatty about what goes on in _your_ head?" With a snort she tossed the pillow to the other end of the couch.

Though it was a fair question, the anger bristled beneath Elliot's forced calm. Would they ever be able to have a complete conversation without bickering, he wondered. Couldn't they talk about important personal matters without expecting the other to have some unannounced agenda to ruin their life? Couldn't they just believe the questions and comments were out of a deep rooted concern? Running his hands over his face, he drew a sharp breath.

"You know, a few years ago I saw a shrink."

Her head snapped up and she fixed her surprised gaze on him and waited.

"When I beat up my old partner for wailing on his son, I knew I had to get help. I…uh…I could have killed him, Liv. If they hadn't pulled me off…I could have killed him," his voice dropped to a whisper. "My life was upside down, personally and professionally – my anger was out of control. _ I_ was out of control."

"You never said anything…I knew things were bad…" She was hurt that he could feel such despair yet never talked to her about it. "Why didn't you tell me, El?"

Without taking time to assess the consequences of his retort, the words flew out as he quickly countered, "Why didn't you tell me about Sealview and seeing a shrink after that?"

He immediately knew it was the wrong move. Very wrong.

Now there was no hiding her anger – at Fin for telling and Elliot for now knowing. The only way he could know was from Fin. Her mouth opened and closed to speak so many times he lost count.

"Fin had no right to tell you about that." The rage she felt was raw. She stood now and began pacing.

A bewildered look filled Elliot's face. "Fin?"

"He's the only one who knew…I can't believe he would do this. Just wait till I see him," she threatened.

Elliot felt like he had been punched in the gut at the revelation of Olivia sharing this intimate detail of her life with Fin. She was _his_ partner not Fin's. She should have come to _him_. Trusted _him_.

"Might want to hold off getting in Fin's face."

Olivia frowned. "Why?"

"Didn't get it from him."

Her mouth dropped open. No one else knew. "Then who…"

"Was walking by your desk when the phone rang…saw the caller ID. Dr. Fulton. I looked her up," he looked at her sheepishly.

"You looked her up? Why would you do that, Elliot. It was private."

"When I saw it was a doctor…I…I don't know…the way things had been with us…with you…I just…I was worried something was bad wrong with you."

Olivia laughed out loud then scoffed, "And you found out I was more screwed up than you ever dreamed, huh?"

"That's not what I meant, Olivia. I was afraid you were physically sick and that's why you had been so distant."

"Distant? Me? I don't believe this." She ran her hands through her hair then let them rest on her hips. "You're the one who pushed me aside and never had time for me when you went running back to your…" She stopped, closed her eyes and shook her head. "You know what, it's late and I think you need to leave."

"No. Finish what you were saying, Olivia. I went running back to? To what?"

"Elliot…"

"Wherever it is that I went running back to at least it wasn't three thousand miles away!" He stormed at the mere thought of Oregon and her undercover stint.

"It might as well have been!" she hollered back.

"What do you mean by that?"

Olivia looked at the expression on his face. Elliot was clearly puzzled. But there was no way she could make him understand the devastation she went through when Kathy ended up pregnant and he went home instead of finalizing their two year separation with a divorce. No way she could explain it in terms of anything but her own selfish desires. She had often wished she could pinpoint when it was that she had quit trying to help him get his marriage back on track – and when it was she began to have hope for a real relationship with Elliot herself instead.

She could not do this now. Maybe not ever. "I want you to leave." Her voice was quiet with finality.

"Olivia…talk to me."

She looked at him but then let her gaze fall away as she walked past him to her bedroom.

"Olivia…Liv…"

The door closed and he heard the click of the lock. To him, the sound was not of her locking him out of her bedroom. It was the sound of her locking him out of her life. And her heart.

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeo ~ ~ ~


	7. Chapter 7

**Detached**

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 7**

Benson Residence – Friday, January 28 – 11:15 a.m.

Boxes were still stacked along the wall separating the great room from the kitchen. Olivia stared at them and sighed. She had been in her new home for forty-six hours and unpacked a myriad of boxes as evidenced by the pile of flattened ones waiting at the front door to be taken to the trash.

She never realized she had so many things. Well, truthfully, a good portion was her mother's belongings that had been in a storage facility. Olivia decided to bring it all with her since home was now a real house that was three times the size of her small apartment.

Thanks to a diligent attorney, it was a timely surprise to learn her mother had a brother who had died and left everything to his sister. The attorney handling his will had found out Serena had died but he himself died before he had a chance to contact Olivia. Somehow the estate had never been never settled. A new attorney, fresh from taking the bar exam, had discovered the situation and contacted Olivia on Christmas Eve.

Seth Benson had run a successful fishing business. He was divorced and had no children. He owned a Cape Cod style home in a small seaside Connecticut village. It had two bedrooms upstairs with a Jack and Jill bathroom which was the only thing that needed updating; the master bedroom with a huge bathroom was downstairs. A third bathroom was next to an office that had apparently doubled as a library – its shelves filled with books. The kitchen had been remodeled twelve years ago with all new appliances while leaving an authentic butcher block and one sink with a pump to the well from the 1920's when the house was built. There was a formal dining area as well as a breakfast nook.

Her gaze shifted from chaos of her living quarters to the view from the huge picture window that took up one wall of the great room. Though it was a sunny day, the wind-whipped ocean created fearsome white caps making the waters both mesmerizing and dangerously inviting.

Grabbing her grey hoodie and her heavier puffy coat, she slipped out of the house and began the short trek across the brown grass of winter to the rocky beach. Her boots sunk into the dry sand making it difficult to navigate but she managed. Before long she was sitting on top of one of the smaller rocks and watched as the water rolled in and out.

As usual, she thought of him. He was never completely out of her thoughts even though she tried repeatedly to dispel every memory of him. Elliot. She was not sure when she realized he was so ingrained in her he had become a part of her. And she of him - so he had said during their last conversation. It was a conversation she knew by heart because she had played it over and over in her head so many times. She had analyzed and dissected every word; every inflection; every possible meaning. Some of it made no sense whatsoever yet some of it made far too much sense.

_He had been sitting on the stoop of her building waiting for her to return. After their confrontation two nights previous about the note Dean had left, she had ignored his calls, texts and emails. She did not want to deal with him. However, she could not ignore the man who now stood and faced her._

_The conversation between them was stilted at first but finally he apologized and tried to reason with her about her lack of emotion. Tried to convince her to continue talking to Huang. Tried to make her see he understood her because she was his partner._

'_The bad things in life open your eyes to the good things you weren't paying attention to before.' His blue eyes glinted in the dim light of the street lamp across from her apartment building._

_She thought about that statement for a long moment then said, 'No. I've seen too much bad, been hurt too many times – I don't see any good anywhere, Elliot. Not anymore.'_

'_Ah, Liv. You know you don't believe that,' he countered._

_She could see how desperately he wanted to believe she was exaggerating her feelings, or in this case the lack of them, but she wasn't. She really was through with trying to see good or do good. It just did not make a difference. At least not her life. And losing Calvin had brought a pain so deep it left her with a numbness she doubted would ever go away._

_Quietly she looked at him, studied the face that was as familiar as her own. It wasn't his fault that he did not understand the emotional abuse and trauma that met her at every turn in her life. She could not blame him for having a wife and family to go home to after a tough case; people he love and who loved him. It was beyond all he knew to even partly understand what it was to be alone. Completely alone. To have no one to miss when if you don't come home; or to hold you when you cry over the atrocities you see every day; or simply to have someone to talk to, laugh with, share your life. The concept was something he simply could not wrap his mind around because in his world it had never been true._

_Smiling slightly, she leaned over and placed her right hand against his left cheek. The scratchy stubble scrapped across her palm. And just for a second, just for a short second she wondered what it would be like to feel that stubble against her own cheek as their lips met in a kiss._

_Chasing that thought away, she whispered. 'Yeah…I do believe it.'_

'_Liv...I-I can't do this alone.' The catch in his voice touched a place within her she thought was gone and nearly broke her reserve._

'_You've never been alone, Elliot.'_

'_Olivia, you know what I mean. You're my partner. I need you.'_

'_You only think you need me.'_

'_Liv', he begged._

'_Though I'm done with it, someone has to do this job, El. Someone has to believe. Keep on believing. For me, okay?'_

_His hand had covered hers but she slipped from his hold and into her building. She never looked back. If she had, she might have changed her mind._

The wind sliced through her and she shivered when a light spray of ocean water hit her face as a wave crashed against the rocks below her. She brushed her hair from her face and held it back with one hand while the other wiped away a salty tear.

"Elliot. Oh, El." His name softly uttered involuntarily under her breath, caught in the wind, the sound ripped away just like he and everything good in her life had been torn from her.

**SVU Squad Room – Monday, January 31 – 3:45 p.m.**

Four weeks. Unanswered calls, ignored texts, unacknowledged emails. Absolute silence from his partner. He was lost somewhere in his thoughts when he heard Fin and Munch arguing.

"I ain't sayin' he didn't do it," Fin insisted.

"Then what _are_ you saying?" Munch asked.

"We gotta be sure he forged the sig. Otherwise, we ain't got no motive."

"All right. All right. I can agree with that. Hey, Elliot. What do you think?"

Elliot startled and sat up in his chair. "What?"

Fin and Munch exchanged glances and made their way to his desk. Fin stood beside it while Munch seated himself on one corner.

"You didn't hear a word we said, did you?" Munch accused.

Elliot shook his head. "Sorry, guys. A lot on my mind."

"Yeah. And all of it Olivia." Fin looked at him knowingly and the fact that Elliot didn't even try to pretend it she was not the reason for how distracted he had been solidified the truth of Fin's statement.

"I haven't seen or talked her in four weeks. She won't return my calls or texts or answer my emails." Elliot looked from one man to the other. "I don't know what to do."

Fin tried to make light of the situation. "Maybe 'Livia just needs some space, you know?"

"So much space she can't even let me know she's okay?"

Munch felt sorry for his colleague but he knew there was no chance of Olivia coming back. Not after what she had told him two weeks ago.

"I'm sure she's fine." Munch shifted on the desk and pushed his glasses back in place.

"She's anything but fine, John. You didn't see her place or…or…" Elliot started to explain but stopped. He could not betray Olivia and in his mind telling Munch and Fin or anyone else how she had been was nothing more than just that – betrayal. "Take my word, she's not okay."

"She's one tough lady. She can take care of herself." Fin's assurance was equally unmoving to Elliot, but he nodded anyway.

"Besides, sooner or later you've got to face the fact that she's not your partner anymore. She's gone from the department, SVU…and she's not coming back, Elliot," John reminded him.

Elliot had been staring at Munch the whole time he spoke but now as his jaw tightened his gaze fell away from the older man and locked onto something across the room. Fin and Munch looked at each other again silently steeling themselves for the eruption of rage they knew was inevitable.

_Not your partner. Gone. Not coming back._ The words may as well as been bullets piercing his body. In reality, they hurt worse than any bullets he had taken and this pain was unbearable. He tried breathing in and out slowly. He tried to release the rising tension by clenching and unclenching his fists. He tried to calm down. It was not working. The truth of the words settled against him weighing him down with their finality. That truth shredded his heart and made his head explode with the meaning. His partnership with Olivia really was over. And he could not take it.

Standing abruptly, he fisted a handful of Munch's shirt, jacket and tie and pulled the man to his face. "You know something I don't about Olivia?"

Fin was immediately on Elliot holding him back. "Come on, Stabler. Take it down a couple of notches."

Elliot shook him off. "Get off me! She tell you something, huh, John?" He tightened his hold on his friend and co-worker.

Munch's hands had gone to Elliot's trying to loosen his grip. "No. She just said she couldn't handle it anymore. That's all."

She couldn't handle it? Well, neither could he and his fist was about to make contact with Munch when Fin grabbed it and a loud booming voice filled the room.

"That's enough," Cragen ordered as he came up to the men and glared at Elliot. "You two take five and then get to work. You," he growled and pointed his finger in Elliot's face, "You go to my office."

Cragen was furious and Elliot did not blame him. He had no right to take out his frustration about Olivia on Munch. The man had not said anything Elliot didn't already know. He had simply forced him to face it. Now he just had to find a way to come to terms with it. But he could not do that alone. He needed to see or at least talk to her.

"What was that all about?" Cragen asked even though he knew instinctively it was about Olivia.

Elliot merely shook his head once and looked away from Cragen.

After all these years Cragen knew he would not get much out of Elliot when he was in a state like this, but he tried. "Detective, when I ask a question, I expect an answer."

Elliot seemed to deflate as he ran a hand over his head and sighed. "I…I…uh…it's been four weeks since I've heard from Liv."

Cragen needed no further explanation. Olivia's departure was hard on all of them, and he knew Elliot felt her absence on a much deeper level.

"We all miss her, Elliot. And I know her leaving had been harder on you, but if it affects your ability to do your job we have a problem."

Elliot looked up at him but then let his head rest in his hands with no response.

"I need you here mentally and emotionally as well as physically. Are you up to it? Or do you need some time off? You have plenty of leave," Cragen offered.

Shaking his head, he stood up. "No, sir. I'll deal with it."

Cragen nodded. "If you need to talk…"

Elliot stopped at the door way without turning around. "Thanks, Cap."

Cragen watched as Elliot went to Munch and said something. When the two shook hands Cragen knew he had apologized. He had no idea how Olivia leaving would finally play out for his squad. He only hoped he didn't end up losing a second detective.

**Stabler Vehicle – Monday, January 31 – 9:12 p.m.**

Elliot was miserable. There was no way around it. He _had_ to see her. The fight over Dean had never really been settled even though he saw her two nights later. That night she had told him she could not do the job anymore. She had given up on life. Those were not her exact words but that was essentially what she had meant. Yet, she asked him to keep on believing. For her. He would try his best, but now after being without her for over all this time, he knew he could make no promises.

Christmas had come and gone and so had New Year's and even on those holidays he had not heard from her or been able to make contact. That added salt to his wounds. And now four more weeks had gone by. And her birthday was just last week. Had she celebrated it? With someone he didn't even know? Or had she even remembered it? Where was she? What was she doing?

He left the precinct late and tried calling Olivia again. Her cell phone went straight to voice mail and he croaked out one more message – 'Liv…it's me. Please call me when you get this, okay?'

He hated how pathetic his voice sounded – so wounded and needy. Well, he did need her. Turning the car around he decided he was not going home to listen to Kathy gripe about him missing dinner again and not spending enough time with her or the kids. He found himself heading toward Olivia's.

**Benson Residence – Monday, January 31 – 9:39 p.m.**

He sat outside the building for fifteen minutes or more trying to find the nerve to go up. Noticing there was no light on in her apartment and he began to worry something was wrong. It didn't take long for worry to turn to panic and he found himself running up her stoop. He slipped in with a young couple and made his way up to the fourth floor.

4D. Hesitating, he finally knocked and knocked and knocked. Minutes later, a neighbor across the hall opened her door. "If you're looking for Olivia, she's gone," the elderly woman informed him.

_Gone. She's gone._ If he had to hear that one more time…he would go beserk.

"You know when she might be back?" he asked politely and smiled at the woman.

"She's not coming back."

There were those words again. Elliot blinked and told himself to chill out.

"She moved." And with that the lady went back inside and left Elliot staring at the closed door with 4E on it.

What? He turned and looked at Olivia's door. With shaking hands he pulled his key ring from his pocket and found her apartment key. All these years and not once had he used it. Not once had there been an emergency where he _needed_ to use it. But he needed to now. He needed to see for himself.

At the sound of the lock mechanism turning, Elliot, heart pounding against his ribcage, took a deep breath and held it as he opened the door to Olivia's apartment. The sight nearly knocked him off his feet. Except for an empty water bottle on the kitchen counter and a roll of packing tape on the floor, it was empty. Just like him. Empty.

This time he wasn't going to find her in Computer Crimes and she wasn't undercover with the Feds. This time she really was gone.

"Olivia," he whispered. "Oh, my God. Liv." Her name caught in his throat and the sound echoed and taunted him in the emptiness of the apartment. Or was it the emptiness of his heart?

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeo ~ ~ ~


	8. Chapter 8

**Detached**

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 8**

Lenburg's Bar & Grill, Destin, CT – Saturday, February 15 – 8:35 p.m.

"He's not worth it," the man said as he slid onto the stool next to Olivia.

Pulled from her deep thoughts, she looked at the stranger. "Excuse me?"

He was about her age, with silver temples and a full head of slightly salt and pepper dark brown hair cut medium short. His green eyes twinkled mischievously when he smiled at her. "Whoever you're pining over – he's not worth it," he repeated.

"What makes you think I'm pining over someone?" she asked with a cocked eyebrow then took a sip of her bottled drink.

"Been there, done that. Way too many times. I _know_ the look." He raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

"If I _were_ pining – which I'm _not_ – how can you say he's not worth it?" She was surprised to find she was enjoying this banter. Normally, she would have had some biting, sarcastic remark that would have had the guy backing off in a nanosecond.

The man smiled again. He had a very nice smile, Olivia decided. "Because he let _you_ get away."

She felt the blush crawl up her neck to her face and hoped the darkness of the bar hid it from his view. "What if I'm the one who dumped him?"

The man leaned closer and whispered, "He didn't come after you. So not only is he _still_ not worth it, he's an idiot."

Olivia laughed at his assessment. "What? Do you _know_ him?"

"So, I was right. You _are_ pining."

"Not really."

"What he forget Valentine's Day or something?"

Olivia scoffed and shook her head.

"I'm sure he'll more than make it up to you when he realizes whatever it is he did wrong. Wanna tell me about it?"

Narrowing her gaze she looked at the man. "No." With that she was suddenly tired of the exchange and turned back toward the bar and away from this man. He was getting way too personal too quick.

Sensing he had overstepped a boundary, the man motioned to the barkeep. "I'll have what the lady's having and bring her another."

The barkeep looked puzzled. "You sure, Chief?"

"Yeah, Hank, I'm sure." He turned toward Olivia. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Didn't give it." She cut him an icy glare still not offering her name. But the name 'Chief' had sure caught her attention and peaked her interest in him once again.

He chuckled. The moment he had seen her come in he knew he would like this woman and he already did. He enjoyed a challenge. Especially one as beautiful as this one. "I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself first. Cade Timmons, Destin's Chief of Police."

Olivia scoffed again. Chief of Police? Even though she was no longer a LEO herself, she still attracted law enforcement types. At that realization, she felt a pang of sadness wing its way through her body. She had been a police officer over half her life and now that part was gone.

"You got something against policemen?" The chief now frowned as his eyes searched her face.

Smiling, she shook her head. "No. Just surprised."

"Surprised? I look like a thug?" he asked with mock hurt in his voice and eyes.

Giving him a quick once over, she noted that he was quite handsome. He wore a red cable knit sweater under his black leather jacket. He had on jeans and hiking boots. And when he leaned close a whiff of his cologne filled the air between them – and she liked the clean masculine smell.

"Thugs come from all socio-economic backgrounds. But you don't fit the preconceived profile of a thug," she told him.

He frowned at her pronouncement. He started to ask her was she in law enforcement, but decided not to push his luck. Instead, he agreed with her. "Well, said."

The barkeep placed Cade and Olivia's drinks on the counter. Cade's eyes on Olivia, he picked up the bottle and took a slug of the beverage, sputtered, then yelled, "Hank! What is this?"

"Flavored tea, Chief."

"Flavored tea? What the…"

"You said you'd have what the lady was having," Hank said defensively.

Olivia laughed then as she downed half of her new bottle of tea. Cade looked at her in amazement.

"Thanks for the tea, Chief," Olivia said as she stood and put on her coat.

"Hey! Wait!" Cade called out as he shifted on the stool. "You never told me your name."

"You're the chief. You should know your citizens," she smarted back.

Yes. He liked this woman, he thought as he chuckled to himself as he watched her long legs carry her out of the bar.

O'Reilly's Pub, Manhattan, NY – Saturday, February 15 – 8:35 p.m.

Elliot swirled the ice cubes in his coke with his finger as he stared blankly into the dark liquid. As hard as he tried he simply could not get Olivia out of his mind. It seemed there was never a time when she was not part of his thoughts. Yesterday had been spent trying to make her face quit popping in his head. Valentine's Day. The day for lovers. No, they weren't lovers. But he loved her like he had never loved another woman in his life. Sitting here tonight he wondered where those thoughts he had had yesterday came from? Wondered just how long he had felt that way? Never mind the holidays and special days, the job was even worse when it came to making him think of her.

Working most any case made him wish she were here beside him. They made a great team. Sure they argued and bickered but most of the time that simply served to make the other more open minded about solving the case at hand. And that's why Benson and Stabler had one of the highest solve rates for any partnership in the NYPD.

Thier current case really got under Elliot's skin and for once he was glad Olivia was _not_ here. It involved a young woman, Marnie Jankowski, whose father had raped her mother then later returned to kidnap Marnie, the product of that rape, when she was a baby. The girl who had been raised believing her mother didn't love or want her had just found out that the man she had called 'daddy' was her mother's rapist. His DNA had been found on a recent string of rapes and it also proved he had raped at least eleven other women during the last twenty years.

Marnie reminded him of Olivia when they were first partnered. The girl had the same slender build, huge brown eyes, dark brown shoulder length hair but a peaches and cream complexion, much lighter than Olivia's. The emotional pain wrought on Marnie at her recent discoveries were overwhelming. She was confused by her mother's insistence that she did love her and wanted a relationship. How could she love her, Marnie had asked Elliot? How could she love the reminder of her rapist? Because of Olivia, Elliot knew how to answer her; knew to get them both into counseling. And he knew if she were here, Olivia would make it her personal mission to see to Marnie's well being. In her absence, he vowed to take on that responsibility.

"Liv," he whispered to himself. "I need you…I need to know you are all right." He blinked back the salty tears stinging his eyelids. "That's all I need to know, Liv."

"Munch said I'd probably find you here." The woman leaned her hip against the side of the bar and looked at Elliot.

Though her voice was soft, Elliot startled then glanced up at his new partner. Or was she his old partner? His former partner? He didn't know what exactly to call her but he wished Cragen had put her with anyone but him. SVU was short handed and they had to have help with the caseload, and since she was experienced here she was again. Dani Beck. Elliot prayed it was temporary.

"What's up?" he asked as he downed the rest of the coke.

"That depends."

He turned on the stool to face her, his gaze boring into her. Why can't you be Olivia, he thought? "On what?"

"You been drinking yourself into oblivion?"

"And if I have?"

Dani sighed and pulled up the stool next to him and sat down. "She's gone, Elliot. You need to get over it and get back in the game. I know she wouldn't want you to be acting like this."

His face tightened at her remarks. "You know nothing about Olivia. Don't you _ever_ say you know what she wants." He pointed his finger in at her and spoke so quietly and with such a menacing tone, Dani knew she had crossed a line.

Dani threw up her hands and backed up a bit. "Fine." But it wasn't fine. Elliot had become careless on the streets. Going in without waiting for backup; provoking armed perps – Dani feared it was only a matter of time before one or both of them took a hit.

Then Elliot picked up his empty glass and stuck in Dani's face. "Take a whiff. It's coke. Straight."

She took the glass and sniffed at it amazed that it was indeed just coca-cola. She nodded. "Okay. Cragen just got a call from Bellvue. Another rape. Same MO."

Elliot looked at her in understanding. "Jankowski made bail?"

"Yeah."

Elliot slapped a twenty on the bar and followed Dani out to the car.

Main Street, Destin, CT – Friday, February 21 – 10:05 a.m.

Olivia saw him coming down the sidewalk and thought about ducking into the nearest store to avoid him. Not that he was a bad guy or anything, she simply was not interested in people getting in her space. Especially not a man who might view her as a potential date. And Cade Timmons seemed a little too interested.

She had been in town right at three weeks and besides going to Lenburg's the other night had barely been out of the house other than to pick up a few groceries. Having cracked the coffee decanter when washing it out that morning, she was in search of a replacement.

Watching Cade walk, his strut that of a self-confident man, made her miss Elliot and his larger than life presence. The energy that roiled around Elliot made people take notice – other men tended to let him take control; perps were intimdated; victims felt protected; and too many woman, for Olivia's liking, took far too much interest in him. And all he had to do was be himself.

Cade was twenty feet or so away when he smiled and threw up a hand in greeting. She smiled back and stopped as he neared and came to stand in front of her.

"Good morning, Olivia," he said with a huge grin.

Cocking an eyebrow in amazement, she noted, "So, how'd you get my name?"

Shrugging, he told her, "It's the Chief of Police's duty to should know the citizens of his town."

Giving him a closed mouth smile, she nodded.

"Say, how about a cup of coffee?"

"Oh…I…I…don't think so. I have some errands to run and…"

"And they can't wait until you have a cup of coffee?" he asked.

"Well…"

"Just one cup. Iva makes some great coffee," he suggested still smiling as he tipped his head toward Iva's Café across the street.

Olivia wanted to say 'no' but she had not had her morning cup and the smell of coffee and bacon and eggs wafting from the café got the best of her. "I suppose I could have _one_ cup."

Over an hour and a whole pot of coffee later, Olivia was laughing at one of Cade's comments when it dawned on her she was truly enjoying herself. Then she remembered she had never asked him how he found out her name.

"So, just how much homework did you have to do to find out my name?" Olivia asked taking a sip of her coffee.

Cade's eyes narrowed in thought as he wondered if he should tell her everything he found out about her. He decided to be truthful. "Well, as a law enforcement officer, I have a lot of programs and applications at my disposal. So, it didn't take me long to put together a profile on you."

Chuckling, she repeated, "Profile? I'm not a perp." As soon as she used that term she wished she could take it back. She sounded like a cop.

"Far from it, Detective Olivia Benson, Shield number 4015, NYPD, 23 years, 7 months. The last twelve in the Special Victims Unit, Manhattan South except for a short stint in Computer Crimes and an undercover venture in Oregon for the FBI. Commendations too numerous to mention; reprimands, suspensions all perfectly understandable, I'm sure. Graduate of Sienna College. Never married. No signifcant other…that is, unless you count Elliot Stabler, your partner of twelve years. No children. Father unknown, mother deceased. One half-brother. On extended leave from the department with an unknown report back date."

Olivia stared at Cade. She knew he would be able to find out who she was but hearing it stated in such concise manner made her both angry and sad. And she wanted nothing more than to be as far away as possible from the man sitting across from her.

"Hmmm…so now that you know all about me, I guess it's time I get head back to the house," she said as she shouldered her carry bag and stood.

"All I know are the stats. And that I've had a really nice time talking with you. Getting to know the real Olivia. What's the hurry?

"Trust me," she said as her eyes darkened, "you don't want to know the real Olvia."

~~~eoeoeoeoeo~~~


End file.
